Ice, Way Too Much Pink, Wobbly Balloons, and Major Wipeouts
Cohen
The outdoor ice rink at Elm Hollow Mountain doesn’t look like a place meant for sports.
It looks like Cupid himself threw up glitter and pink paint all over a slab of ice.
There’s a heart-shaped gazebo serving hot chocolate, red fairy lights hanging from the trees like romantic vines, and ice sculptures of couples kissing—which, if you ask me, are deeply unsettling.
It’s supposed to be the pinnacle of romance.
Instead, it feels like a gladiator arena… with rental skates and wildly unrealistic emotional expectations.
I’m sitting on the bench lacing up my skates, watching Sloane from the corner of my eye.
She’s different.
Ever since we kissed—ever since we actually talked and cleared the air—there’s a new light in her. Like something finally unclenched.
She’s wearing a tight white thermal set with tiny red hearts running along the seams (courtesy of the sadistic wardrobe department) and a red knit beanie pulled low over her hair.
She manages to be adorable and insanely hot at the same time.
Which feels illegal. And dangerous.
“Stop staring at my ass, Becker,” she mutters without looking back as she tightens her laces.
“Can’t,” I reply easily. “It’s my favorite panoramic view. And those hearts on your cheeks are basically an invitation.”
She laughs—real, light—and something in my chest loosens. The tension. The edge. Just a little.
I lean in and press a quick kiss to the curve of her neck, right under her hairline. She leans into me for half a second, like she’s recharging.
“ATTENTION, LOVEBIRDS!”
Aunt Tina skates—literally, and with alarming lack of control—into the center of the rink.
She’s wearing a red dress with a high Elizabethan-style collar, a crown of fake roses, and she’s holding a scepter topped with a glowing heart.
Pedro is perched on the head of an ice sculpture, watching us with deeply unsettling curiosity.
“Welcome to today’s challenge: Trust on Ice!” Tina announces.
“Skating hand-in-hand is cute, but we want more. We want to see just how stuck together you really are!”
Production assistants hand each couple a red, heart-shaped balloon, inflated to the absolute edge of danger.
“The rules are simple!” Tina continues, waving her scepter.
“You must complete the obstacle course on the ice—slalom through Cupid’s Arrows, duck under the Kissing Arch, and jump the Log of Eternal Love. All while holding this balloon between your chests. No hands! If the balloon falls or pops, you start over. Fastest time wins one hundred Heart Points!”
I look at the balloon.
I look at Sloane’s chest.
I look at mine.
I grin.
“So,” I say, very pleased with this development, “I have to stay pressed against you for the entire course?”
“Exactly,” she says sweetly. “And if you use that as an excuse to grind more than necessary, I will take you out with my skate blade.”
Her eyes sparkle.
“Oh please, Angel.” I wink. “You love it when I grind on you.”
Her smile widens.
We skate to the starting line.
The other couples are already falling apart.
Silas and Daisy are a full-scale disaster. Daisy clearly cannot skate. Her legs are going in two opposite directions like Bambi on ice, and Silas is basically holding her upright by the collar of her hot-pink jacket like she’s a feral kitten.
“Please tell me you have health insurance,” he groans.
“I have enthusiasm, Si! That’s basically the same thing!” Daisy yells, thrilled, nearly taking his eye out with an overexcited arm.
Lucy and Lars are nauseatingly sweet. Lars is a solid mountain of a man, steady and calm, while Lucy clings to him like a koala. Bernie and Esther are holding each other up; Esther has stuck the balloon to Bernie’s sweater with chewing gum.
Honestly? Genius.
And then there’s Joe.
Yeah. Still hate him. Possibly more than I did five minutes ago.
He’s scolding Sarah because she overinflated their balloon and it’s about to pop against her fake nails.
When he catches me looking, he straightens and skates toward us with that smug expression that makes my hands itch.
“Careful not to slip, Sloane,” he calls, stopping a few feet away.
“Balance was never your strong suit. Remember that Valentine’s Day in Central Park? You landed on your ass in front of everyone. I had to pull you up.”
My muscles lock instantly.
Every caveman instinct I have wants to launch a skate at his forehead.
But Sloane places a hand flat against my chest.
She isn’t hurt.
She isn’t shaking.
She turns to him with a bright smile, cold as the ice beneath our feet.
“Oh, I remember perfectly, Joe,” she says sweetly—sweet enough to rot teeth.
“I also remember you laughing instead of helping me. But mostly, I remember that if I fell, it was because your balance was terrible. Not mine.”
She tilts her head.
“I can skate just fine. So… good luck.”
Then she steps into my side like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
She looks up at me and winks.
God, I love her.
I mean—
I like her. A lot. Like, catastrophically.
Okay. I’m screwed.
“READY… SET… LOVE!”
Tina’s whistle cuts through the air.
Sloane and I press into each other, the balloon wedged tight between our chests.
My arms stay wide—hands off the balloon—but our bodies move as one. I feel her breath, her warmth, the soft weight of her breasts pressed into the red latex and my chest.
“Left,” I order.
We pass Chad and Kiki immediately.
They’re fast, but Kiki breaks formation to take a skating selfie. Chad doesn’t stop. The balloon drops.
We move in perfect sync. I played hockey as a kid—I know ice. Sloane is agile, matching every shift like we’re hardwired together.
We’re fast.
We clear the slalom through the giant Cupid arrows, our faces inches apart.
“We’re killing it,” she pants, locking eyes with me.
“Don’t distract me, or I’ll kiss you and pop the balloon.”
“Hold it together, Becker. Win first.”
We pass Tiffany and Brent.
Tiffany is screaming because Brent is too slow. “Move! You’re wrinkling my fur!”
We skate by. Sloane can’t resist.
“Love the outfit, Tiff! Very aerodynamic!” she calls as we fly past.
Tiffany whips around, loses her balance, and—POP.
Their balloon explodes between her sequins and his zipper.
“NOOO!” Tiffany wails.
“Oops,” Sloane giggles against my neck.
We’re neck and neck with Lucy and Lars.
They’re slow but unstoppable. Lars skates with the steady power of an icebreaker.
But we’re quicker.
We reach the Kissing Arch—a low arch draped in roses. We have to duck in sync.
I bend my knees. Sloane mirrors me. Our bodies slide together, hip to hip, pelvis to pelvis, in a way that makes me forget for half a second that we’re competing—and remember only how close we are.
We make it through clean.
Final straightaway.
I spot Joe and Sarah. They’re ahead—but their balloon is slipping upward. They’re not connected. Two bodies trying to win individually, not a couple.
“Push!” Joe yells at Sarah. “Get closer!”
“You’re hurting me with your belt!” she snaps.
The balloon slips free and floats skyward.
“Back to the start!” Tina shouts through the megaphone.
Joe kicks the ice in fury, nearly wiping out.
Sloane laughs—pure, vindicated joy.
“Let’s win this,” I say.
We accelerate.
We cross the finish line first, the balloon still perfectly intact between us.
The second we’re over the line, I grab the balloon with one hand and Sloane with the other, lifting her up and spinning her. She laughs, clutching my shoulders.
“VICTORY FOR THE CAPTAINS!” Tina screams.
We stop, breathless.
I glance around as the rest of the couples finish.
Brenda and Steve come in second, furious about losing gold.
Lucy and Lars take third—adorable as hell, even sneaking in tiny kisses.
Roxanne and Dave finish fourth, arguing and kissing at the same time. I’m honestly impressed they didn’t pop the balloon.
Bernie and Esther are fifth (Esther absolutely cheated by holding the balloon with her hand, but Tina pretended not to see because they’re elderly).
And then… the showstopper.
Silas and Daisy.
Silas skates while Daisy clings to him like a human backpack, feet off the ice and wrapped around his waist, the balloon miraculously safe between their stomachs.
Pedro the blackbird swoops down and lands right on Silas’s head, using him as a taxi.
“Good! Good!” the bird squawks.
Tina blows her whistle.
“Attention! Pedro has given his approval! I’m awarding +20 Wild Card Points to Silas and Daisy for the Marsupial Technique and avian endorsement!”
Silas rolls his eyes, but when he sets Daisy down, he pats her head. “You’re basically weightless,” he says.
Daisy blushes.
As we take off our skates, Joe storms past us, red with rage.
“It’s just a skating challenge,” he snaps. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
I stand, towering over him. Sloane rises too, proud at my side.
“So, Joe,” she says sweetly, venomous perfection in her smile, “who’s bad at balance now?”
She holds his gaze. Doesn’t flinch.
I pull her into me and kiss her forehead.
“You were incredible.”
“We were incredible,” she corrects.
I give her heart-covered, thermal-clad ass a playful smack.
Love Goals – SCORE UPDATE
(because production has been accused of cheating)
Sloane & Cohen: 470 Heart Points ??
(Absolute domination)
Lucy & Lars: 440 Heart Points
(Steady and adorable—breathing down your neck)
Roxanne & Dave: 310 Heart Points
(Chaos pays off—they climbed quietly)
Silas & Daisy: 310 Heart Points
(Tied thanks to Pedro’s Wild Cards)
Brenda & Steve: 300 Heart Points
(Strong technical recovery)
Bernie & Esther: 260 Heart Points
(Crowd favorites)
Joe & Sarah: 165 Heart Points
(Total collapse. Joe is furious.)
Tiffany & Brent: 110 Heart Points
(Mostly here for fashion)
Chad & Kiki: 60 Heart Points
(Still don’t understand the game)
(Production reminds contestants that score changes may occur based on bonus or penalty points related to behavior. Yes, Joe—slimy cheaters are universally disliked.)